


[title being worked on] Running scared

by ghoulscomecrawling



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: trans fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:32:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2626904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulscomecrawling/pseuds/ghoulscomecrawling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lost for so long in the vault, a boy finds his way in the wastes, and picks up some friends along the way. All while keeping something that could mean life or death  for him hidden from the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. memories

**Author's Note:**

> i will fiddle with editing later, but here is the first tidbit

_The first memories_ he had was of Butch and his goons making Amata cry as they pushed her down in the hallway and called her all sorts of names for being the overseers daughter.

Well, that’s not true, he remembered more than that, but that was the first instance he could clearly remember the anger and hate boiling under his skin.  
That sharp anger that stabbed him in the side and seared under his flesh everywhere, like a radroach digging in his head. That is when he remembered when it started. 

The pain, the confusion. 

Its always been there, lurking, making him uncomfortable in his own skin. He hated his name, his voice, his body. How, many of the boys would stare at him for far too long, and his opinions would be shot down in his father’s lab with a ruffle to his hair and a condescending smile. That same smile he received from other adults. 

At night he dreamed, sickening images that was twisted with real events and what he remembered as a child.

His walk to his father for the first time, the praise he received for small milestones, he said his first word, (what was it, everything seems and echo now) He remembered when he picked the lock to his playpen, wondering where his father went.  
Everything was kinked up in a tight little ball that mixed with horrendous flashes of light and gunfire. It should be impossible, he never heard or seen a gun being fired until a video Mr. Brotch showed them. But it felt so real in his dream.

He vaguely remembered his mothers voice. Crying over something, his father excited and then worried. The voices would reach a crescendo and it all became screams after a while. His parents, himself, the white noise that took over before blissful silence.


	2. riptides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More strange p.o.v. of our wanderer.
> 
>  
> 
> If you see any errors, let me know.

It was all just confusion and slight indifference to the issues at hand before Butch’s attack on Amata.  
  
He was a child until that point, no real understanding to anything that was happening. Up until that point he was too young to understand what exactly was going on. Everyone was the same and everything was an adventure, after all, everything was the same until someone pointed out the differences. Between wrong and right, good and bad, male and female, it never stood out until it was shown to you. Thats how he was taught many things he believed was wrong, and he was **wrong.**

That it’s how it always starts. _Differences._ His history books told him that much. There would be no issue in the world if everyone just acted like everybody else was equal. No discrepancies in the pre-war world, or even in the vault. In Fact, he believed if there was no differences to point out and raise fuss over, there would be no vault, leading to no war, and no destruction.

And in that moment, watching Amata being shoved down and picked on, being told how pathetic she was because of who she was. What she was. For what she had, and who she was related to.

It

**broke**

the

_dam._

He hid around around the corner of the hallway listening to all the awful names the gang had came up with. He felt dirty.

Children had come up with those names, or repeated them from adults; spewing them out like faucets from the sink. No need to understand what they were saying or how it affected those around them. He had these same names shouted at him, heard them shouted at others.

Skin crawling, he ran, ducking into the showers _[hidden behind the curtain feeling terrible for going into that bathroom automatically, he needed a shower to scrub away the filth and anger from his skin.]_ He couldn’t help but walk into the room. It felt so wrong doing it, like he was telling the worst lie. It was nothing he could help though. It was what he was taught all these years.  
  
To go to the one he wanted to would mean ridicule and shame.

It was long before he emerged once again, Butch and the others were long gone, and he scampered to his room with his head tucked low.


	3. puppy dog tails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more confusing linear

_The first time he cut his hair it was after Wally’s birthday party._

He was humiliated by the clothing his father picked out, a teal dress with small white dots, but he refused to mention it. That always lead to fights and frustration. A sad and frightening look from his father, with a sigh followed by "You has so much of your mothers spirit in you."

There was no point to it anyway, his father was wrapped up in what ever thing Jonas was helping him with. Most of the time his father didn't even come home to the apartment they lived in. Staying in the lab all night, or wherever else Jonas and his father snuck off too before anyone noticed.  
Mostly he was left alone all night; wondering what he did wrong, or if he should tell the overseer. He wouldn't, not on his father or Jonas, but people grow up to be conditioned to specific things and rules. And those things make fleeting thoughts in their heads before they can stop it. Fear and paranoia played a big part of the snitching that happened in the vault. It was how the Overseer made sure no one stepped out of line without his know how.  
The party was uncomfortable for him, standing awkwardly in the corner near one of the vault guards and tugging at his clothing. He pulled at the hem every so often, and shifted his weight against the wall. He wasn't very popular in the vault, so no one other than Amata even bothered him. It was… preferable that way. It saved him from embarrassment and fear of others. Hanging near the vault guard, officer Taylor, kept the few that would bother him away. 

Officer Taylor was an okay man. He was polite, aging gracefully with his wife Mrs. Agnes. She was one of the few adults who accepted him for who he was, not hesitating even a second when he asked her to stop calling him a lass. He enjoyed spending time with her, even when she wasn't feeling so well, on the days he wasn't in school, he would seek Mrs. Agnes out and they would listen to the vault music and she would tell him tales of the outside world. He wasn't sure if he believed them, after all, the Overseer told them they were born here, and would die here. But she did spin tales of exploration and meeting strange and fantastical beings. He was filled with wonder, and hope. That maybe one day he could go off and explore the world like she proclaimed. Maybe one day he could introduce himself to new friends without such hate in his voice. 


	4. ruiner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thoughts run from past to present.   
> rarely linear.

The vault was dark, with everyone in their rooms after mandatory lights out. Everyone except him. Possibly his father and Jonas too. 

And it was indeed mandatory. The overseer saw an end to any ‘unlawfulness’ from the vaulties with a memorable public display of a classmate when they were all young. It had been brutal, a horrible punishment that did not fit the crime; leaving the whole vault on edge for a long time. The poor child never strayed again from the path the Overseer set for them. She remained faithful like a rescued puppy, readily defending the Overseer honer and reporting any actives to him, regardless of if they were legal or not. Even Amata complained about the vault child's loyalty.

From this gross overuse of power, and years of tyrannical ruling arose backlash. Rumors of revolution sprung up from shifty eyes and ashamed whispers, and then were quickly squashed before anyone close to the Overseer caught wind. It was seen as hazardous to even near the Amata, but he was ever faithful. It was stupid, but she was his only friend in the vault, and he was damnedest to fuck that up. So he kept her in the dark of the words he heard, and even gained more shunning from staying friends with Amata. But it was all worth it in the end. Even with her obliviousness and small minded words sometimes. To have just one friend in this life was enough for him.

And one day he messed up. He had mentioned it offhandedly to Amata. The thoughts of revolution in the vault. Just a momentary lapse in judgement, trying to find out where she stood in this game of politics they played. Her screams of anger and her utter femaleness broke into his skull. He would never be like her, soft curves and careful actions. Her pure anger, spiking at moments and crashing into a crescendo. Fist clenching in rage with her nails digging deep in her palm. The way her chest shook as she took a ragged breath. She was beautiful to look at. 

_He felt repulsed by the thought._

He was human, as was she, why would anything make her more beautiful than what was already there. He felt as though he was being rude to her. Invalidating her as a person by thinking features are over feelings. God, he was turning into Butch. ANy other time that would almost feel as a positive thing. The closer to Butch meant the closer to being _manly, and normal_. But not like this.

They spent the next few weeks in a burdened silence; his awkward, ashamed avoidance, and her seething anger, turning her nose up when she caught sight of him. She would 'ha-rUMP' when she passed him in the halls, and she turned her back on him in class and at the mess hall. It got the others whispering again, some saying she was a bitch for it, or just being a daddies girl, others saying she finally got rid of the freak. No matter what was being said, it was not flattering. But some of the less rude girls invited her over for lunch, only to make snide comments and act falsely nice to her to get information from her. He would sneak glances at her in class, hoping she would look back and smile as she often did. He also wondered for a long while if she had told her father about the conversation.

That night echoed over and over in his head before he drifted off fretfully. The room felt colder in his memories than it really had at its ever comfortable preset temperature. “He is becoming so _tyrannical_ " His voice had stressed the word in a mock hiss, hushed in his own bedroom, as though the Overseer would storm in at any moment. Amata shot up from sitting on his bed as he sat tense in his chair. Her screech afterward echoing in his mind.

" **HOW DARE YOU!** He works so hard and all you guys do is **COMPLAIN!** " She had stormed out after that, with such hate in her eyes that he didn't dare stop her. 

The party had been a bust, Amata had ignored him other then when her father was making his rounds. She had put up a front then, acting nice. He didn't like how she said his name though, and the way she left once the Overseer had went back to his perch in the vault, watching over the citizens. 

He slipped past the night watch before the official lights out. It made it a little harder to get away from his room at this time, but the challenge was fun. It honed his sneaking skills and left him feeling good for a fleeting moment. He escaped the ever watchful eyes.


End file.
